Chapter 20: Into the Pack

Meadow whistles at me—almost deafening me with the strength she can emit with just two fingers in her mouth—and motions with her hand in a circling manner to get me to turn around. She's bossy, but there's something likeable about her, and I'm fast warming to her pushy personality.

She's gone to town on me in a short space of time. My hair is sleek, combed until it's glossy, and pulled up into a high ponytail that she said made my waves come together into almost a ringlet at the back. She's blushed, pinched, dabbed, and painted my face with various products, and squeezed me into clothes she swears are my size, but the restrictions I feel make me doubt it. My bust is surprisingly close in size to what she wears, so no doubt she heavily downsizes for extra "oomph" in her breast department.

I’m wearing skintight soft denim jeans, paired with a fitted white tank top with a low-cut V. I’m all cleavage I never knew I had, with a booty I feel is way out on show in these sculpted pants, and I'm pulling on the soft mauve velvet hoodie she told me to leave open. My feet are in crisp white sneakers because we're going for the “casual and didn't try too hard” look, and she’s thrown some silver hoops in my ears, with a simple, dainty necklace holding a tiny green crystal she said was the color of my eyes.

Honestly, I spent my life dressing in shapeless or loose clothing to feel comfortable and not to draw attention, and now I feel like I have way too much on show and am a bit too dressed up for a wolf pack meeting in their communal area. I know Colton has seen me naked after turning, but this feels more exposed somehow. Maybe because I rarely wear makeup and what’s done feels strange on my skin, my lids feeling heavier with the lashings of mascara.

Everything is perked and propped up, held in tight fabrics that enhance my curves, and I wish I could see it for myself to tell how bad or good it is. For all I know, I look like a clown. But no, I only busted every damn mirror in this mansion some hours ago and can only go by Meadow's reaction, which seems to be positive.

“I would bang you,

chica

.” She winks, throwing me a kiss and blowing it my way dramatically, clicking her fingers and her tongue on the roof of her mouth in unison to make an approval noise.

“Thanks, I guess,” I respond with a half-laugh and a nervous cough, not sure if that's the appropriate thing to say, but she laughs airily.

“I like you, girl. You're funny without trying to be. You're like this little naive, awkward kid, but with the heart of a vixen waiting to come into her own. Don't ever change that.”

She eyes me over once more, nodding to herself with obvious pride at what she’s created, and it warms me to my stomach. It's weird to have someone genuinely look at me with a hint of pride and acceptance like this. I mean, Colton doesn’t count when he did it earlier; he has to feel that way about me as it's ordained by the Fates to be so.

“I'll try not to.” I smooth my hands down the soft fabric smothering my legs and do one final check from my own viewpoint. Literally, all I can see is boobs.

“You sure I look okay and not too obvious?”

Doubt is already swarming me, denting the little bit of confidence she’s been building up in the last half hour, and Meadow shakes her head, loosening those beach curls she has going on at the ends as she puts some oversized gold hoops in her own ears.

“Please... I know what I'm doing, and I ain't no fool when it comes to teasing men. We went for sexy-casual; just work it, trust me on this. One eyeful of that bootylicious look and Colton’s gonna be dry-humping your ass into next week like a wolf in heat.”

She extends a hand, that mischievous glint in those pale blue, sultry eyes, straightening her own fitted white blouse down over those mega breasts of hers with her free hand, and I hop forward to catch her fingers in mine—eager to go before I lose all my nerve and wipe this off.

We've only been up here for around twenty-five minutes maximum, but it feels like hours have passed, and I'm so much more relaxed with her, even if I'm not relaxed with how I'm kitted out. I guess having her right in my face with various implements she could have gouged my eyes out with built trust. I can't explain it and can only go by memory of what being part of a pack was to compare, but this feels a lot like Meadow is bringing me in as her pack sister, initiating a bond. It makes me choke up a little, suddenly so grateful that she’s Colton’s second and has her own kind of bond with him, which has pushed her to invest in me. It's nice to have another person who likes me, for whatever reason.

“Let's go find your man and make Carmen's face implode.”

Meadow sounds like she’s a little too invested in doing that, her accent a tad heavier when she’s smirking, her lips curling like the cat that got the cream. That smug tone—I can't deny she’s lifted my mood completely in terms of that "skanky

puta

," which I now know means “dirty slut.” Eloquent. I guess having someone on your side who's not ordained by the Fates to be so makes a difference. It's no longer just me and Colton.

Meadow leads the way, and with a combination of moving fast and giggling at nothing in particular as we play, push, and shove each other around corners and doors, downstairs, back to where we started, we seem to get there in record time. I barely took in my surroundings at all this time. Who knew a Santo Beta wolf could be so fun to hang out with?

The door to the study is shut, but I know before following her in that Colton isn't here yet. I can't feel him anywhere near this room, nor any fresh scent, and I swallow down hard as I step in, right behind her, almost hidden in her shadow.

The rest of them are in various states of lounging, uninterested by our return and definitely not missing our presence. Someone is playing music in the corner on a cell phone or a small device—I can't see—and it seems they have all had a couple, or a few, drinks in our absence. The smell of booze is wafting our way, tinting the air with that chemical whiff.

I can’t miss Carmen sitting alone at the desk, "sulk face" fully initiated. She's flicking through a large book, something heavy with aging pages, and glances up hatefully as I make eye contact. She doesn't say anything, goes back to what she’s reading, and pretends we didn’t just walk in.

“I have to admit, she scrubs up well, and I guess I can see why Cole couldn't keep his hands off her...” One of the twins remarks as Meadow gets out of my way, exposing me fully to the room.

There's a cough as Carmen reminds them of her presence, how much she doesn't like that comment, and Domi shuts up. Remi pushes his brother in the shoulder playfully, shaking his head at him, and eyes me up too. I can tell by the way he flickers over me, nodding with a smile, that he agrees.

“Okay, so like this, maybe I can see the potential. I mean... Ouch!” He makes a motion with his hands as though he touched something hot, and then dramatically blows his fingers and makes a sizzling noise with his mouth. Despite the earlier hostility with these two, I smile slightly, giggling involuntarily, screwing up my nose in shyness at being scrutinized as my face heats with a blush.

“See,

chica

, they like. My boys, they know sexy when they see it. I think it's a massive improvement to wearing Cole's cast-offs.” Meadow walks around me for her own final appraisal, as though she didn’t spend minutes upstairs admiring her handiwork, and then sashays away again, grinning to herself. She's congratulating herself on her awesome skills.

“Who likes what?”

Colton seems to appear out of thin air while I was too distracted to pick up on him, and I spin in both surprise and instant nervousness, realizing I didn't get any time to prepare myself for him walking in. I'm just standing here halfway into the room like some awkward kid who's been asked to model the ugly jumper her grandmother knitted for Christmas.

Our eyes lock as he hits me with that megawatt "cute boy" smile—a hint of dimples, a reminder of how gorgeous Colton is when he relaxes and lets his charms shine. That's before breaking contact to let his gaze slide down my outfit and back again. I can tell by the raised-brow expression he likes what he sees, and that smile turns into a full-on, dimple-enhanced, swoon-worthy, sexy smile, with an accompanying twinkle in his eye that melts me to my core. It does weird things to my insides, and my butterflies rise up and set my skin alight with a smoldering fire.

Well, I'll be damned. I thought naked was good.

His mental message has me blushing insanely, heat consuming my face, his voice dripping with heightened lust, but it's short-lived when I catch him side-glancing Carmen and he seems to instantly put his tongue away, pulling back his reaction and yanking on that serious persona once more. It's like he got scolded, and I wonder if she mind-linked him and gave him "what for." In her head, they're still “trying to work things out,” even if I know otherwise.

“My father gave me a schedule of where all the packs, teams, and such are to report at dawn. We meet in the mess at first light. Our subs are convening on the west river, the old basketball court, and we'll be in charge of continuing training with the pack members already learning combat... and, of course, Lorey.”

Straight into leader mode, pushing that spark between us aside as responsibility kicks in. I don't know who gasps louder out of literally everyone in the room. Even I take that last word or two in with a little inhale of “what?”

“She's training with us? Has she ever done any sort of hand-to-hand or weapons training in her life? We might kill her by mistake!”

It's the previously silent member that I never got a good look at, and he steps forward now, appearing from behind the bar area. I flinch when I catch sight of his face. He's older than Colton for sure, a little greying of his hair at the temples, and he has one completely white eyeball that suggests he’s partially blind. The other is so dark brown in comparison that you can't help but react when you see it. A raggedy, awful-looking scar runs from cheek to forehead and passes right through, so deep you can tell he was wounded pretty badly whenever this happened; it's literally the first thing you see.

I try not to stare, but it is so very rare to see a wolf with any kind of scars. We self-heal miraculously and instantly most of the time, and only one kind of wound will ever leave a mark like that on a healthy wolf: silver dipped in wolfsbane. I heard they used it against our kind in the wars with some success, although it killed most. If it doesn't kill you, it leaves you forever marked as he is by creating an infection inside of you and poisoning the site around it. It eats into your body and flesh and makes you so very sick that healing won't cure the mess; you have to heal like a human. I don't recall ever seeing him, but I guess with damage like that, he wouldn't want to be seen outside much. Wolves have very high egos, and any kind of failure in battle makes them act weird and live in shame. We're all about that. I mean, it's literally affected my entire existence.

“Where else would she train? She's safer with me, and I'm safer being the one to teach her to fight. This thing is real, and no one has more experience than the combat teams, of which we are one.”

Colton has an edge to his tone; his gaze flickers my way, and I catch Carmen, out of the corner of my eye, throwing him a full-on pathetic and woeful look. She's aiming to manipulate him with what I assume used to be a tried-and-tested method when he was with her. Tears come out to play, and I try to ignore her. Colton's jaw muscle twitches and he glances away from her, back at his pack, somewhat unimpressed. A frown creases his forehead, and his eyes cloud over a little in glowy amber.

“Radar, I think it's the best plan, and we as a unit can bring her up to speed and teach her how to sync with us... to become one fluid machine, with an extra set of teeth. Our pack lost numbers with Karly and Ebony both being with pup and out of action.”

Meadow throws me an encouraging, warm smile as she backs up Colton, bringing my attention to the fact there's more to this sub-pack normally, bringing femme numbers to almost match the males. She starts subtly growling at her mate when he opens his mouth to say something, and he shuts it just as quickly.

I blink back at the scarred wolf and it clicks; his name must be Radar. Weird for a name, and I assume it's a nickname, something to do with whatever gift he has. I do know some wolves possess an ability to feel things coming from afar and have insight into certain things in the way a real radar pulse would. I wonder if it's what he can do, although maybe not, if the vampire attack was unforeseen.

“And if she’s useless and slows us down... what then?” Carmen butts in nastily, abandoning her pitiful act bitchily because he didn't bite, and instead pushes between us to get in the middle of the conversation. Putting herself between Colton and me, she nudges closer to him in a bid to mark her territory. Colton steps sideways away from her, turns, and walks to the bar, pulling out a bottle of water from a concealed fridge, and takes a slow drink without reacting to her in any way.

“Why would she be? We're good teachers; we've taught many of our kind and started them in their training. Besides, didn't you see the chaos in the house, or were you too busy being blinded by your own seething hatred?”

Meadow doesn't hold back; her words drip with venom, coming at Carmen from across the room where she’s been standing back to admire her handiwork, and Colton sighs loudly. He turns and perches his butt against the edge of the bar; it's only now I notice the dark circles under his eyes and the unusually pale pallor of exhaustion.

“Can you two stop for just... an hour? I swear, this shit gives me a headache.”

He sounds lackluster, too, and I wonder what exactly went down with his meeting with his father. His usual shine is missing.

“She started it!” Carmen blurts out like a juvenile tattletale, and it makes me frown at her with a subtle shake of my head. Mature, she is not. She follows Colton once more across the room as he pushes off and heads for a couch, but he sees her coming and crosses away to perch on the arm of the opposite one, where the twins are sprawled out with cans of beer. She looks annoyed instantly at the fact she can’t sit anywhere near him, and it irritates me endlessly that she’s chasing him around. It's obvious to all of us he wants her to leave him alone.

“She has a name, and no... I think your skanky

puta

booty always starts shit. When are you going to stop trailing his ass and sit down? You're being pathetic.”

Meadow lets out a frustrated “arghh” noise under her breath when Carmen ceases to edge closer to him, mirroring my sentiments exactly. She walks over and yanks Carmen by the arm harshly, pushing her into a nearby chair aggressively so Carmen stumbles backward ungracefully and "butt-thuds," then throws a commanding, pointing finger in her face. One of her talons is only millimeters away from piercing Carmen's nose.

“Now sit! Like a good little puppy, or I might have to spank you.”

Meadow is throwing attitude, and with a tone and glare like hers, I wouldn't argue. Carmen's face turns puce with outrage, her eyes darting wildly to Colton to overrule his second-in-command and chastise her for talking to her that way, but Colton inhales again, sighing heavily, and goes back to his previous position of sipping on his bottle of water. Carmen really does look like she may self-implode and make Meadow’s and my day after all.

Meadow slinks over to Cesar on one of the armchairs and crawls onto his lap, curling herself around him and nestling her butt against his crotch. I can't help but watch the way he opens up and accepts her invasion, wrapping her in his arms willingly and whispering something in her ear before she smiles at him sexily and flutters a kiss on his lips quickly. It’s so fluid, no refusal, and no insecurity in her that he might not want her sat on him.

It's obvious they're completely bonded in all ways, and although I haven't seen her mark, I can tell it's done. They have that connection oozing from both of them that says their union is finalized and they can communicate on a deeper level than what we have so far. A mark can be wherever your mate decides to put it, although most males like to have it on show and put it on a femme’s throat—not all do. They're known for territorial possessiveness, so it's more common than not. Cesar is obviously very secure that his fiery, hot femme can battle off males by herself.

I find myself aching for that, wondering where Colton would choose to place his, and have to tear my eyes away from him before Carmen kicks off again. My heart is beating a little too fast, and my soul is yearning stronger than before. I miss his touch already.

I realize I've zoned out, blinking back to reality as they talk about zones, patrols, and something to do with the new containment areas. I try to listen in as Colton explains that they're setting up homes in the valley to try and accommodate the families from other parts of the mountain tomorrow. Tents and temporary buildings will need to be erected, and the local bar and school on this side will be converted, along with the gym and the community hall. They have caravans and mobile homes coming out of storage for some, but a lot of the people they want to move closer are refusing to leave their homes and unite on this side.

“You can't force people to shift everything and up and leave to move a few miles. I get the "why," but these people... they don't want to leave their homes for a tent in the fields, Cole.”

It's Jesus, and I watch as they all lean forward, seriousness kicking in as they talk this out and freely throw in opinions. Everyone except me, and of course Carmen, who is now focused on the conversation at hand and silently listening on the outskirts of the huddle, gazing longingly at Colton.

“We don't know when another attack will come, and it's easier to keep them safe if we have them here.”

Colton shrugs, seemingly repeating what he’s been told, but a look flashing across his face tells me he doesn't agree. I almost "will" him to stop mimicking his father's words and be honest with what he thinks we should be doing.

“Easier to control, you mean? We all know your father has been angling for supreme reign for years, and this sounds a lot like he’s trying to force the packs into one place so they're easier to police.”

Matteo verbalizes what I guess I was thinking and feeling, surprising me that I'm not the only one. Colton throws a dangerous look at Matteo, a growl in the undercurrent as he jumps to defend an insult aimed his father's way, but Matteo doesn't back down.

“You know it, Cole... you know how he is. Tell me it's better to corral people together when they have a device that can disable us all within one space, and I'll drop it.”

Matteo talks sense, and I agree. Bringing the people together means we're a sitting target if they use the same device. At least spread out, we have a chance of escaping the effects and fighting back. They can't attack us all in one go with one of those things, surely.

I catch Colton glancing my way, something flickering across his eyes as he thinks, and then he turns back to Matteo. I miss the fleeting message in his look, not sure what it was meant to mean.